Disarmed
by freakintheriver
Summary: AU – Naomi and Emily work together at Gina's café, but they just can't seem to get on. But when events spiral out of control, they find that they just might need each other.


_Short chapter to start ... _

1.

'You have a problem with me'.

Naomi froze at the comment. 'What? ... No I don't'. Her fingers gripped more firmly around the handle of her mug as she held it just centimetres away from her lips.

The redhead's uncompromising stare was trained upon her, and the girl's small, strong hands were planted firmly against her hips.

'Look, would you just cut the crap and tell me what your problem is?' Emily requested harshly.

Naomi blinked in bemusement, setting her cup back down on the table. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' she assured the girl.

Emily sighed in what appeared to be exasperation. 'Fine. If you refuse to be an adult I can't help you.'

Naomi frowned. 'You can't help me be an adult?' she asked, confused.

Emily opened her mouth to retaliate, but at the second the door to the break-room swung open and Gina bustled in. 'I hate to crack the whip Naomi, but your break was over half an hour ago,' she said, wiping her hands on the skirt of her apron.

Naomi sighed, glancing wistfully at her undrunken tea as she stood up. 'Slave-driver,' she muttered, eye-balling her mother and she passed her.

'Take it up with your union if you don't like it dear,' Gina told her with a smile, lightly patting her on the bottom as she drifted leisurely past.

'Slaves don't have unions, that's the point,' Naomi grumbled as she slunk out of the room.

Gina sat down heavily in Naomi's vacated seat, gratefully helping herself to Naomi's abandoned beverage.

Emily watched the door swing closed before speaking again. 'Is she always like that?' she asked Gina, leaning against the counter behind her.

Gina looked up. 'I assume you mean charming, sophisticated and affable?' she asked.

Emily snorted. 'Yeah. Exactly those things.'

'Oh she can be a bit moody. But give her a chance, she's a good girl at heart,' Gina assured her with a smile.

Emily twitched her lips uncertainly. 'It's just I ... I can't help feeling she doesn't like me,' she admitted, pulling a chair from under the table and sitting opposite Gina.

Gina sipped at Naomi's tea. 'Don't worry love – she's like that with everyone. She doesn't mean anything by it.'

Emily nodded despondently. 'I just don't want to get off to a bad start here.'

Gina waved her hand dismissively. 'Oh rubbish – you're doing an excellent job. Naomi can piss and moan all she likes. She doesn't have any say in who I choose to employ.'

'I guess that's a relief then,' Emily sighed, watching through the small, circular window in the door as Naomi disinterestedly jotted down orders.

...

'Number 47, extra chips.'

'Number 47 comes with gherkins. You hate gherkins,' Naomi said, her pencil poised above the pad.

'I'll pick them off.'

'And leave them over the table for me to clear up again?' Naomi inquired.

'Most likely,' Effy said with a small mischievous smile. Her electric blue eyes sparkled brilliantly against the black smudges of her eye makeup.

'Why don't you just order 46? It's exactly the same, but without the pickles,' Naomi suggested, tapping the menu with the eraser-end of her pencil.

'I like the slight residue they leave on the bread,' Effy told her.

'You're such a dick,' Naomi muttered, scribbling down the order.

'And a strawberry milkshake,' Effy added as she handed the menus back to Naomi, who snatched them from her petulantly. Effy passively observed the aggressive motion. 'What's got you so snappy and grabby?' she asked.

Naomi sighed, glancing briefly back towards to door. 'Just this new girl working here,' she muttered, half-shrugging one of her shoulders. 'She's really confrontational; I can't be bothered with it.'

'Well, you know red-heads can be fiery,' Effy raising her eyebrows suggestively as she twiddled inattentively with the nozzle of the sugar dispenser.

Naomi rolled her eyes. 'Fiery isn't the word - wait - how do you know she has red hair?'

'You've already complained about her to me three times in the last two weeks,' Effy told her, absently pouring some of the sugar out into her cupped palm.

'I have not,' Naomi argued. 'And don't do that,' she added, snatching the sugar dispenser away.

Effy nodded at her. 'Yes you have. If you asked me, I'd say you had a little crush going on.'

'Well I didn't ask you,' Naomi snapped.

Effy grabbed at her hand as she turned to leave, quickly transferring the sugar from her palm into Naomi's. 'Here,' she said, 'might help to sweeten Emily up a little bit.'

Naomi shoved at her friend in exasperation. 'That's it. No pickles for you,' she said as she brushed the sugar off from between her fingers.

She felt Effy's gaze on her back as she stomped back into the kitchen. Emily had already returned from her break, and was busily washing her hands at the sink. The sound of the water drumming against the stainless steel filled the room. Naomi watched her for a moment – the way her hands were running over themselves, rapidly and reverently. She quickly snapped her gaze away as Emily noticed her and flicked off the tap.

'46 with extra chips,' she told Emily, ripping the paper from her pad and handing it over.

'OK,' Emily said, roughly towelling her hands dry before take the order slip and attaching it to the board above her station. 'What's that?' she asked, noticing the flash of glass in Naomi's other hand, caught opportunely by one of the spotlights.

Naomi looked down and saw the sugar dispenser she'd confiscated from Effy clasped tight in her fist. She sighed and shook her head. She looked back up at Emily. 'It's ... for you I guess,' she answered, setting it down on the counter beside Emily before leaving the room.


End file.
